


When No Virtues Are Left to Defend

by GuardianDaemon



Category: Epica, Kamelot
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianDaemon/pseuds/GuardianDaemon





	When No Virtues Are Left to Defend

I could feel his hand slide down my ribcage as he supported his weight with the other arm. I arched my back to meet his touch. Soft, insecure, careful caress. This was new. It was different. The thought of my previous lover was now a memory to keep me warm on random cold night. And also a reason to smile to myself, almost unwillingly, never telling anyone what was funny. The secret of the Mona Lisa smile. And what a secret it was.  
He reached behind my arched back and fiddled with the laces of the corset I should have taken off in the dressing room. Shaking fingers released the laces and the inconvenient garment was whipped away quietly. Ever so quietly. It was the necessary silence that would slow down most movements.  
My bare breasts exposed to the pitch-black darkness were instantly showered in damp and cautious kisses, all without a sound. My hips instinctively bucked, making him bite back an involuntary groan.  
I ran my fingers through his short hair while my other hand slid up his back. I could get used to this new territory. I’d never felt this much weight on top of myself and it was all muscle that flexed underneath the tight t-shirt. My hand snaked over his side to his stomach with every intention to slide the t-shirt upward and get it out of the way. However, he wouldn’t let me. If only I could have seen the expression on his face. Or say something. Anything. The silence and the dark were nevertheless blessings. Guilty conscience could have kicked in if we’d gotten a chance to look each other in the eye. And there would probably be a bit of embarrassment. As I said, to a certain extent we were still strangers.  
To exorcise my idea of taking his shirt off, he moved away from me and pulled my underwear down my thighs. Another slow and insecure movement. He was still scouting out the limits to see how far he could go. To see where I’d draw the line and stop him.  
There was some more slow fidgeting in the dark. The mattress underneath me shifted before I could feel his weight on top of me again. I wrapped my legs around him as I felt him slide into me with a gentle motion. I took a sharp breath as he filled me inside, the unexpected pain warning me my body was tense. Now so was his. He waited.  
I hugged him tighter to signal encouragement. He lowered his head and buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply while taking in the scent. Was he invoking into his mind its flaming colour in that darkness?  
I rocked my hips, inviting him to move with me. We moved together lightly, there was barely any motion but I felt the waves of pleasure as if they were ripping me to pieces. I bit my lip and could have sworn he was biting my pillow. In this closeness I noticed the scent resembling sandalwood and cedar which drove me insane.  
Then the unexpected happened. The bus went into motion again. We froze for a moment. However, it was only a moment. The vibration and the bumpy flow were almost too much for my overstimulated nerves. A familiar pressure was starting to build up in the lowest part of my stomach. We had nearly picked up a faster pace but we were warned against it by the creaking of the bed.  
Reducing the activity didn’t stop my breath from coming up in short gasps which got louder. He put a hand over my face to silence me. I could feel his body shiver as if in a succession of trembling waves. He rammed into me with less caution. The thrusts, becoming erratic, made me see stars when I closed my eyes. Or was it when I opened them? It was so dark I couldn’t tell the difference.  
But did he realize his hand was cutting off my breath and his fingers were starting to dig into my cheek? His strong body in full contact with mine pressed my lungs a tad too firmly. My hand took a hold of his and he pulled it away instantly, in full understanding. However, instead of a breath of air, a loud moan escaped my lips, stopping us both at once.  
We lay there perfectly silent and still, trying to steady our breathing. There were no sounds coming from around us except for the purring of the engine. I could only presume we hadn’t awoken anybody, nevertheless, we couldn’t continue. Too much was at stake. Too many hearts would have been broken and careers ruined. Within a minute or two he left my bunk, skillfully sneaking away.  
I lay awake without a sense of time that would have been passing. I knew he would be back eventually. If not the following night, then maybe the one after that. Or the one after that.  
Sometimes there was a certain kind chemistry between people. The rare kind that exceeded the devotion to the relationships they maintained with their significant others. I hadn’t thought I’d feel that way after his predecessor had left. But I was lucky. Or was I damned?  
I knew it would happen the first time we had faced the audience together. The energy of the sea of people fed us both as if we were vampires. The music. The heat. The adrenaline. The sweat. The passion. It triggered something inside performers, and not just us. It was something that mercilessly drew us to each other even when we’d much rather keep away.  
Singing a duet required a lot of interaction but those icy blue eyes could never hold my glance for longer than a few seconds. Upon realizing that, I would mostly keep my back turned to make it, what ever it was, easier. In the corner of my eye I saw his hand hover a few inches away from my waist. If I turned around to face him and extended my hand, his fingers were a slight distance away from mine. Or my cheek would be nearly touching his. Nearly. Always at least half an inch away. Was he afraid of the wakeful eyes of my significant other who was a few steps away? Could have been. But, at the end of the evening, sometime late at night, that fear didn’t stop him. Besides… There was one thing I noticed: he hardly ever mentioned my name. When asked to tell to tell how many vocalists he’d shared the stage with… He’d rarely mention my name.


End file.
